by Cole, Sunny
Jack handed her the hamper of food, went to the wall nearest the bike and retrieved two helmets. He grinned as he handed her one. ‘See if this fits.’
She looked at the helmet sceptically, then at the black beast they were to ride. ‘You know how to operate this thing?’
Jack laughed. ‘I could fetch James if you’d prefer to ride behind him. He sometimes accompanies me and rides the blue bike behind it.’
Stodgy old Just James...a biker?
‘Oh, I almost forgot.’ Jack went to a locked cupboard and fished out what looked like a bedroll and two leather jackets. ‘I should’ve had you put this on first. Helmet generally goes on last.’
Riley had to chuckle. The last thing she’d expected was to become a biker babe. Next she’d be getting a tattoo on her shoulder, a skull and crossbones, or one of those ‘tramp stamps’ of a butterfly on her lower back that could be seen between a skimpy shirt and a tight pair of leather pants.
‘We should shop for a pair of boots for you,’ Jack said, donning his jacket and looking at her expectantly, waiting for her to shrug into hers, most likely.
‘You’ve bought me enough clothes.’ Riley set the hamper down and worked her way into the jacket.
‘Not just clothes — the boots are to protect your legs and feet should we have an accident.’
‘What?’ She stopped what she was doing.
‘Relax, Riley. I’ve not had one to date.’ He picked up the hamper and blanket and attached them to the back of the bike.
Riley watched in fascination then began to fret. Oh, my God, we’re gonna die. The man thinks he’s James Freaking Bond. Riley’s insides churned.
She stepped aside as Jack brought the bike to life, and while he guided it smoothly outside the garage, she stood stock still like a lamb tied to a fence waiting for slaughter.
He clicked the button, and the garage door started closing. Riley scurried outside, shaking beside the noisy black animal Jack straddled.
Her husband held out a hand. ‘Hop on.’
‘Uh-uh.’ She hung onto her shoulder bag as if it were a life preserver. Stay. Go. Her body didn’t know what to do, but her mind sure knew to remain where she stood.
Jack snatched her arm and pulled her toward him. ‘Place your foot here...that’s it, now swing your leg over and grab me around the waist, and hang on.’
Not. A. Problem.
Silent words she’d only uttered when angry flitted through her brain. Riley closed her eyes and clung to him, even though they hadn’t moved. The throbbing motorbike reverberated throughout her body from legs and butt to shaking shoulders, arms, and head.
There’s no way he can keep this thing upright. It’ll tip, and us with it. Get off now while you’re still alive or you’ll be a newlywed corpse.
Riley tapped him on the shoulder. ‘How long have you been doing this?’
‘Long enough. When I was eighteen, a girlfriend took me out on hers, and I was hooked!’
Great. A former flame. Riley wondered if she’d meant much to Jack. ‘You had a girlfriend who rode motorcycles? What was she like?’
Jack turned his head to look at her. ‘A feisty redhead like my wife.’
‘I’m a strawberry blonde, not a true redhead, in case you haven’t noticed.’
He nodded. ‘I’ve noticed. Any more questions?’
‘Yeah, what was her name, in case I hear you talking in your sleep?’
Jack chuckled. ‘Sally.’
Satisfied but miffed, Riley suddenly felt more unsettled than ever. The man’s not a monk. What did you expect?
He turned to fiddle with something on the bike and called over his shoulder. ‘Riley, I hear your teeth chattering.’
‘Just do it - go - before I change my mind.’
Her palms against his chest felt the deep laughter before her ears heard it. He seemed so tickled, he tilted his head back as he laughed.
The monster they shared trembled, shook. Riley’s imagination sped past her grip on reality, and metal morphed into flesh and bone, a live entity, capable of human destruction. Hers.
Fear mounted in Riley’s chest. Her centre of gravity somersaulted and didn’t right itself, as one concern piled on top of another. Where were they headed? What if they crashed? How would she navigate to find help should she still be able to walk afterward?
Then before she knew what was happening, Jack lowered his head, revved the engine, and the beast they rode sprang forward. At first she teetered, unable to find a centre of gravity, despite Jack’s expertise. She kept fearing she’d fall every time the bike wove this way or that.
Would they never get off the house grounds and onto a level stretch of road so the bike wouldn’t tilt?
Wind whipped the hair she hadn’t tucked into the helmet. She sucked in a deep breath, and to her surprise, she felt oddly excited.
So this is what it feels like to fly. Buoyed by a big, heavy bike of all things, guided by a thirty-something boy with a toy he loved.
Her unsteady equilibrium began settling, grounding her, even as they flew, whipping effortlessly around curves, levelling out once they struck a long, smooth path of pavement. She relaxed her death grip on Jack and ventured a look at their surroundings. Trusting him to keep them safe, she inhaled deeply and surrendered to the moment.
The fierceness of the wind seemed gentler, allowing her to let the rushing air seep into her, not just cut around her. Her eyes became adjusted to their speed, and she was able to focus on not only the hills and valleys but the deep blue sky with twinkling stars, occasionally obliterated by passing clouds.
Contentment caressed every cell in her body. She’d never known such peace.
Riley lost track of time. She smelt the scent of lush greenery and moist soil, triggering the thought that they mustn’t be far from a large body of water. She didn’t see anything, but she was sure it was there.
Jack downshifted, gently tapped the brakes, and slowed their pace. Within minutes, they rounded a curve and began a slight climb. From her perch behind Jack, it looked like they were moving toward a dark quilt made of stars.
The bike slowed then stopped at the base of a small hill. Riley looked behind her and could make out shadows of bushes and small trees several kilometres away. They were at a much higher elevation than when they began their journey.
Jack killed the motor, steadied the bike on its stand, and clasped her hands that still held him. ‘Ready to stretch your legs?’
She wobbled as she dismounted.
‘Steady, chérie.’ He held out an arm for her to grasp.
Riley hadn’t a clue where they were, but it was a magical place, and she told him so.
‘Wait.’ Jack swung a leg over the bike and joined her. He reached into one of his jacket pockets and handed her something small and round.
‘You brought a torch.’ She smiled, even though she doubted he could see her that well. She flicked the torch on then off to make sure the batteries worked.
‘Come. You can carry the blanket.’
He unpacked their gear and beckoned her to follow, holding out a hand to guide her. ‘You haven’t seen anything yet.’
They only had to climb a short distance before they topped the hill, and when they did, she cried out with joy. The moonlight revealed two large bodies of water coming together in the valley below.
Jack pointed. ‘To our left, the Goulburn River, and over here, the Hunter River.’
‘So we’re still in the Hunter Valley?’ she asked.
‘Of course.’ Jack tugged to pull the blanket from beneath her arm. ‘This is a good spot, don’t you think?’
‘Perfect.’ Riley was too busy observing to give him much help, not that he seemed to need it. ‘How did you find this place?’
‘Haven’t you heard? Too much work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.’
It was no answer, but his words achieved a chuckle from her. ‘Jack, I doubt you’ve ever been dull by any stretch of the imagination.’
‘I have my needs,’ he said quietly. ‘Getting away from it all is one of them. There are only so many business luncheons and board meetings a man can take. Pile on top of those the decisions that have to be made concerning the vines, then the whole process of wine making, and it all gets to be a bit much.’
She added her two cents. ‘No wonder you never had time to get married.’
He had spread their blanket so they’d be overlooking the valley and rivers. Riley sat beside him, and he hauled the hamper of food before them.
Jack touched her shoulders. ‘Let me help you out of your jacket. You won’t need it here.’
Riley shivered when the heated leather left her body, but he was right. It was a lovely night, and for now she was comfortable.
He placed their jackets to his left and resumed working on the hamper.
‘Thirsty?’ Jack held out the thermos of coffee and a bottle of water.
She nodded, surprised she felt no threat in such an isolated place, equally aware that for the first time since they’d met, she felt free. No obligations toward work, marriage, being on display for people she didn’t know. Shocker of all shockers, not a shred of feeling uncomfortable being alone with her husband.
You idiot. Look what happened last time you were alone with him. She shook off the guilt and embarrassment. No need for that here. Not like they could become a tangled mess of arms, legs, and other body parts out here in the open. They might fall off the hill and roll into the water.
‘What are you thinking, Riley?’
She hesitated. ‘The rivers.’ Well, it’s true.
Jack leaned toward her and delivered the bread and containers of food. ‘Pretty spectacular view up here.’
Janet had included enough veggies, cheeses, and meats that their feast was more of a Ploughman’s Lunch than a snack. There were even slices of tomato and avocado.
They made their sandwiches in silence, but Riley was acutely aware of every brush of Jack’s skin against hers, the back of his hand rubbing her thigh as he replaced lids on dishes.
He didn’t appear to notice she’d become nervous. It seemed this was like any other night he’d been on top of the world. For Riley, it was romantic bliss with one exception. Her sudden need for him was hardly peaceful, and romance would soon be out the window if she didn’t get a grip on herself. Animalistic wasn’t her style, but something about being outdoors, in a slice of the wild, with the sexiest man she’d known worked on her libido. Hormones fired like pistons, and for a moment she wondered if she was a lunatic or sex fiend. Jack had been the perfect gentleman, had made no overt moves, no innuendo. She’d even sworn not to have sex with him! What was wrong with her?
She leaned against him, almost subconsciously, and stared at the rivers below.
Jack had no idea what prompted him to share this private place with Riley, and at such a late hour. She was probably exhausted — she’d said as much at the reception. She seemed to enjoy herself, though.
He smiled to himself. Nothing like a good bike ride to work up an appetite. He was just surprised to find Riley in sync with him. More surprised she didn’t chatter incessantly like most women he knew. That she was comfortable in a shared silence made him glad. He didn’t have to entertain her — the view took care of that. She didn’t need reassurance. She’d taken the ride like a pro once they were on a smooth stretch of highway.
So why the electricity in the air between them? He’d been careful not to say or do anything that might make her jittery. He was still confused as to her reaction when he’d left the room the night before, but he had reservations about believing she’d wanted him to stay so she could make love to him. No. She’d just had her pride wounded somehow. Women were funny like that. If he’d learned anything growing up with women in the house, it was that the female species could find fault and slights in any situation, and a smart man took it all in stride without asking a lot of questions or trying to fix things that didn’t need repairing. If Riley needed his help, she’d ask for it.
He’d had an epiphany or two during the past twenty-four hours. One: his wife was a complex mixture of innocence and womanly wiles. Two: he was definitely attracted to her, so this marriage of convenience was crap. It was no longer convenient for him — it was downright demented to think he could keep his hands off her without a strong conviction, and it wasn’t like there was a big green light giving him the go-ahead to claim her.
Damn him for ever having her sign that contract. She’d be offended if he didn’t appear to find her desirable. She’d hate him if he seduced her after she’d remarked she wouldn’t bear him children. Sure, she’d mentioned they use birth control, but Jack doubted she was serious.
Perhaps she’d realise he was offering up this place, not to seduce her, but so he might share a bit of himself with her. He’d not ridden with another female since his teens, and he’d never been to this lookout point with anyone else. Maybe Riley would sense that. It wasn’t something he discussed anyway. Women had their ‘secret garden’ niches in their private thoughts. He had his. Some places were more sacred when not discussed.
He was distracted from his own thoughts by the soft sound of...snoring. When he looked down, there was Riley, one hand clasping an empty coffee mug, the other curled around his arm, her small fingers touching his wrist.
Another dilemma arose. They couldn’t stay; they’d be food for ants and other creatures before long. They couldn’t leave. Riley would never be able to hang onto him if she was drowsy.
Raindrops began falling, large pregnant orbs of water. At first, Jack was surprised. Then a flash of lightening across the eastern sky made him jump. Riley awoke about the time he found his voice. She squealed, protecting her head from the rain.
‘Quick — put on your jacket and helmet.’ He tossed them to her, repacked the hamper, and grabbed his own gear.
Wrapping, rather than folding, the blanket, he stuffed their belongings onto the bike, strapped them down, and started the motor. With any luck, they could make it down the hill before they were pelted and driving became difficult.
Cursing in French, Jack manoeuvred down the now muddy path they’d climbed. Why hadn’t he bothered checking the weather? Their romantic ride had quickly turned into something sinister. Not that Riley need know, but the road home would be slippery. They’d be lucky not to crash, especially with lightening approaching.
Chapter Ten
Riley clung to Jack. She’d smelled the rain long before it hit. Why hadn’t she said something, encouraged him to find shelter earlier? Their situation was obviously serious if he was so quiet. On the way to their destination, he’d pointed out this landmark or that and had occasionally made comments to reassure her. Now he was silent as a grave.
She knew he took the brunt of the weather, shielding her, because they were riding into the storm, not away from it. Hadn’t they already passed a fork in the road where they should’ve been heading north, not south? Why were they going in the opposite direction?
Unfamiliar terrain, followed by equally new buildings appeared. Jack stopped at one stoplight near a big advertisement. Riley couldn’t see his face, so had no clue what he was thinking or doing.
Her jeans, shoulder bag, shoes — all were soaked.
‘Jack.’ Riley leaned toward his ear so he might hear her better. ‘I don’t think the Dolphin Cruise is on for this time of night.’
His response was to gun the motor and keep travelling.
Did he even know where they were?
Riley watched for signs that could point them toward a motel. Ah, familiar names she’d heard of. Tuncurry, Forster, pronounced Foster. Now she knew where she was. Two small towns almost joined together. There was One Mile Beach somewhere around here. But still no...oh, yes. Finally. A motel. And Jack passed it.
Resigned to thinking she’d spend the night being pelted by rain, Riley decided it best to simply trust him. He’d gotten them this far without killing her. Might as well hang on for the duration.<
br />
Signs soon alerted her they had entered Newcastle. She stared in surprise at two young men on segways. In the rain? They seemed to be having the time of their lives.
Names of streets whirred past her field of vision. Occasionally she caught one. Kahibah Road. Darby. Wickham. Finally they arrived at what looked to be a major hotel set amidst this sandy-beached slice of New South Wales. Jack coasted into a garage, and from there it was all Riley could do to walk with him to the front desk. She paid no attention to the transaction, heard very little of Jack’s brief chat with the night clerk. She was just thankful when they stepped off the elevator and into their room.
‘Don’t fall asleep yet.’ He ushered her into the bathroom. ‘We’re muddy — have to shower.’
Riley protested. All she wanted was to lie down, shoes or no shoes, clothes or no clothes. She was bone tired, cranky, and while she’d had a lovely time with Jack, now all she needed was rest.
‘Strip or I’ll undress you myself.’ Jack left her alone and closed the door behind him.
Seconds later, she heard the door open, and to her amazement, he shucked his clothing and stepped in after her. Before she could complain, he ordered her to face him. Riley placed an arm over her bare breasts and her free hand over her lower abdomen. But Jack wasn’t looking at her. He looked past her, reached, and produced a small bottle of shampoo.
Open-mouthed, Riley allowed him to squeeze several drops onto her head.
‘Massage.’ He still spoke in clipped sentences.
He’s probably as tired as I am and could care less that we’re naked. She scrubbed her head, working in the citrus smell of shampoo.
Jack didn’t appear to be through barking orders. ‘Exchange places with me so I can shower.’
She obliged, smiling through her tiredness. They weren’t precisely in tandem, but somehow their disjointed system worked, for they both got clean. Jack helped her apply conditioner into her hair, switched places with her, helped her rinse. Then he held the shower curtain aside and asked her to step out so he could finish showering.
